


Reunions

by Atalto



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Cuddling, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Psychological Torture, Unreliable Narrator, its not much but im tagging it anyway, tumblr prompt fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 09:44:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11205453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atalto/pseuds/Atalto
Summary: Turns out not all aliens are the nicest folk, even when they're not the Galra.Lance and Hunk find this out the hard way.





	Reunions

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys!  
> the anon that asked for this probably didn't intend for the angst, but there's not enough Hunk angst out there. Turns out i gotta do everything myself lmao   
> BTW I've got some more Hunk angst that I'll upload this weekend thats considerably longer and actually has a format, so pls shout if you like this
> 
> Enjoy! (if you can)

If you were to ask Hunk to describe his surroundings, he would say they were dark. After all, it's hard to describe things when you can hardly see two feat in front of you and your armour lights aren't powerful enough to do anything about it.   
He awoke in this tunnel what felt like hours ago, on the promise that Lance would be on the other side. If he was really quiet or held his breath, he could still hear a voice that seemed to echo around the cavernous halls.   
He wasn't nervous. At all.  
Neither was he absolutely terrified about the idea of never seeing Lance again.

Those aliens were sick, sick bastards.

 _"Give up, Paladin,"_ they taunted, words dogging each uneasy step forwards he took, _"you know you can't succeed."_  
Sometimes he started to believe him, then Lance's cry would follow, urging him to keep going with as much volume as his lungs would allow until he was abruptly cut off.  
He had to do this, for Lance if nothing else.

* * *

 

Their greeting seemed innocuous enough; three foot tall aliens that walked on all fours despite their human looking hands welcomed the two Paladins with smiles that Hunk swore would split their faces if they were any wider. Lance was completely in his element, chatting to these creatures that had invited them down for peace talks, and Hunk was happy just inputting where he could. The food was good, the talks were going well, the creatures seemed nice enough.

Then the drugs hit, and the last thing Hunk remembered was a wide grin.

When he woke up, he was in the total darkness he had become familiar with, and he was pretty sure he hadn't been awake for too long. Everything was still slightly hazy from whatever they put in the food, causing his legs to drag like lead beams across the rocky floor. He wasn't sure where the walls were to lean on, too scared to stray off his current path in case he never found the end.  
This wasn't fair, at all. They'd taken his bayard off his so he couldn't even count the seconds between shooting and wall contact. All he could do was walk, and he wasn't even sure if he was doing that properly.  
"Can anyone hear me?" He called, pausing on the spot to see if any of the darkness had changed. "Anyone?"  
 _"Hunk, please!"_  
That was Lance, oh god that was Lance. He sounded hurt, desperate and raw enough to linger in Hunk's ears until the deafening silence returned.  
 _"Hunk, please, just stop!"_  
Wait, what?  
 _"You can't do this anymore, just leave me."_ That was definitely still Lance, but the desperation had left his voice. Instead was some calm acceptance, wrong and out of place in the situation.  
"Lance?"   
_"Just give up."_  
Hunk stalled, eyes frantically searching the darkness for where his voice was coming from. "Lance, what are you-?"  
 _"Who would ever have thought that you could make a good paladin of Voltron anyway?"_

Something akin to ice felt like it was slipping down Hunk's chest. His breath hitched and his nails dug through the thick material of his gloves. "Lance, you really don't-"  
 _"I do."_

He had never claimed to know what colours felt like, but the buzzing in his temple felt white; angry, empty, unrelenting. His lead feet picked up, a walk going to a jog going to a run into the darkness, towards where he assumed Lance-not-Lance was shouting. There was no way Lance would say that, no way Lance would think that, no way Lance would even agree.  
But what if he did?  
Hunk kept running. The darkness kept coming.

At the back of his throat, he felt a burning, obviously oxygen debt that was beginning to attack is airways. He didn't even seem to be going anywhere, just lost in a stony void that occasionally echoed with Lance's voice. Suddenly everything is blue again and he doesn't have control of his actions, Lance is in front of him shouting for him to stop but he's saying words that aren't his own and everything blurs into blue and black again as his eyes fill with desperate tears.  
A red pain shot through his ankle as his foot jammed into a rock, and yet he had to keep going, to get to the end, to get to Lance. The red pain spread to his knee, to his thigh, until his entire leg felt red.  
"Lance!"

Then a white light broke through the black, and the last thing he recalled was a roar of yellow.

* * *

 

Hunk felt groggy, eyelids like steel doors that didn't seem to want to open. But that was Lance calling, and that was Lance's hands around his waist holding him up despite the weakness of his legs.  
"Lance?"  
"That's right buddy, take your time."  
Opening his eyes felt like surfacing from a bog, and the light of the castle infirmary stung.   
"Hunk? Hunkules? Can you focus on me for me babe?"  
Focus on Lance, he could do that. It took a few rumbling blinks, but eventually the caramel face in front of him wasn't quite as fuzzy; if he tried really hard, he could see blue, bright blue, like the sky back at home on the beach with Lance.  
Lance.  
Who was currently stood in front of him, looking worried out of his mind and on the verge of tears.  
But he didn't ever remember getting to the end of the tunnel.  
"Don't you remember?" Hunk shook his head, and Lance gave a weak chuckle. "You smashed up your leg trying to get to me, and the Yellow Lion freaked out, like ripped a hole in the place red-style and grabbed us before you bled out."  
That explained the yellow block he remembered, and Lance's voice sounding more real.   
"But, what did they-?" He didn't finish his own sentence, voice cutting out before he could.  
Lance sighed and pulled him close, wrapping his arms fully around his waist and pressing his lips into Hunk's collarbone. "They made me watch, babe, they made me watch." The tears had started, Hunk felt wet through the medical suit and lethargically put his arms around Lance's shoulders. "They said some things and, oh god," he took a deep, ragged breath, "those bastards could recreate vocal pitches. They used-"  
"They used your voice, I guessed."  
Lance's head snapped up, eyes wide. "What they said, you know it's not true, right?"  
Hunk didn't answer, couldn't answer. Every word got stuck in the scratch of his throat that felt garishly pink.  
He heard Lance sigh pitifully, pulling away enough to turn towards the door. "You need to go to bed, mister, you'll feel better after a rest."   
They turned the corner into the long corridor of rooms.   
"Or at least, that's what Coran said, and I'm pretty sure he knows his stuff. Like he might be crazy, but if he can't work this castle, no one can, am I right?"  
Now that's the Lance he knew, he loved, and he felt himself slip in time to Lance's rambles.

* * *

 

The next time Hunk woke up, everything was dark again, and he panicked for all of about three seconds before he realised he was in bed, with Lance, on the castle ship, and not back in that endless hellhole. Coran was right, he did feel better after a rest; his vision wasn't as tunnelled or as hazy, and his limbs didn't feel rod-stiff as they once did. Now that he was awake, he noticed the dark was more of a dimmed navy, and the walls of the room were easy to make out in the low light levels.  
He yawned, and his ears popped with a crack, allowing him to hear Lance's awakened telltale groan.   
"Hunk? 'You okay?" Lance's voice was rough with sleep, but real and concerned and nothing at all like what he heard in the black.   
He turned, hearing the bones in his back pop as he did. "I'm fine, go back to sleep."  
A hand connected with his shoulder, and gently pulled him back down until his head was on the pillow and Lance was all he could see. "Not without you babe." He heard Lance chuckle, and felt him shuffle closer. "I love you, Hunk, I know you'd never leave me."  
Arms slinked around his stomach and lips pressed themselves against his forehead. The scent of Lance's body wash filled the air. This was home, this was safe, not some alien torture chamber.  
He wrapped his arms around the body in front of him and pulled it closer. "Lance, baby, they said," he stumbled on the words, memories dragging like zombies through his mind, "they said-"  
"You're the best paladin out of all of us, Buddy." Lance sounded muffled, but strong, "no one else would have done that."  
"But Lance-"  
"Go to sleep babe," long fingers began tracing patterns on his back: Stars, triangles, circles. "You'll feel better in the morning."

Sleeping sounded like a good idea, and he let his eyes flutter shut. "I love you Lance."  
"I love you too, you great idiot."

Lance was there in his arms, soft, warm, and safe, and he let sleep take him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks all for reading!  
> Kudos/Comments are the voltron of my universe


End file.
